


Being in Love

by MarianneGreenleaf



Series: Building a Life Together: The Courtship of Marian Paroo [8]
Category: Music Man - All Media Types, The Music Man (1962), The Music Man - All Media Types, The Music Man - Willson
Genre: At the footbridge, Clandestine canoodling, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Courtship, Dancing together, Epilogue jumps ahead, F/M, Fluffy Ending, French Kissing, Harold and Marian have a fight, Heavy Petting, Light Angst, Literary Banter, Marriage Proposal, Mrs. Paroo is worried Marian will be a Christmas cake, Outdoor Mischief, River City High Gymnasium, Sexual Tension, Strolling together, Wooing on the Paroo front porch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-23
Updated: 2012-09-23
Packaged: 2017-11-14 21:53:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarianneGreenleaf/pseuds/MarianneGreenleaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>River City is about to celebrate its first-ever Halloween masque! Will this be the night Harold Hill finally proposes to Marian Paroo - or will she discover that despite everything they've been through, he's still not ready to settle down?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's You

_It’s you in the sunrise, it’s you in my cup_  
 _It’s you all the way into town_  
 _It’s your sweet “Hello, dear” that sets me up_  
 _And it’s your “Got to go, dear” that gets me down_  
 _It’s you on my pillow in all my dreams_  
 _Till once more the morning breaks through_  
 _What words could be saner or truer or plainer_  
 _Than it’s you, it’s you, yes, it’s you, oh, yes it’s you_

This heartwarming little tune was a particular favorite of the four gentleman comprising River City’s school board turned barbershop quartet, and they sang it often at town assemblies and events. _It’s You_ had claimed a special place in Marian’s heart as well. Every time the members of the school board performed this song, Harold’s eyes sought hers and – no matter where they were or how many others were around – he gazed at Marian like they were the only two people in the world.

Almost three months had passed since the night the River City boys’ band played a halting, off-pitch _Minuet in G_ , since Marian boldly defended Harold Hill to a hostile crowd that was itching to get their hands on tar and feathers. And it had been the most wonderful three months of Marian’s life. To love, and be loved in return, was more glorious than she had ever dreamed. Even in late October, when the leaves of the trees had turned brilliant shades of red, orange and yellow and a crisp, autumn chill saturated the air, Harold behaved as though he was just as much in love with her as he had been that warm summer night when they shared their first passionate kiss on the footbridge.

But in the cheerful days after Harold’s exoneration and acceptance by the townspeople as a permanent River City-zien, there was still a small part of Marian that wondered if this was just a phase Harold was going through. Being in love and living in one place was a novelty for him, and novelties were always thrilling. So even though she found Harold waiting for her outside the library every evening, without fail, Marian couldn’t help but watch him for signs of a redeveloping wanderlust – or brace herself for a day when he wouldn’t be there to escort her home.

But Harold seemed to have taken well to small-town life. He was always bursting with energy and ideas for fun things to do, and he kept things in River City as busy and bustling as when he organized a boys’ band. Harold’s latest project was a Halloween masque, with prizes awarded for the best costumes. In years past, Halloween hadn’t been celebrated with much fanfare, the holiday being considered too frivolous and pagan by most of the townspeople. But when Harold stipulated that costumes would be limited to historical or literary figures, Mrs. Shinn and the other ladies on the Events Committee had enthusiastically backed the idea. Marian also applauded Harold’s plan, as it had increased library patronage – she had never seen the books fly off her shelves so fast. It seemed nearly everybody in town was searching for inspiration for their costumes.

Unsurprisingly, Harold was most keen about the costume contest. With his cleverness and competitive spirit, Marian knew they had a good chance of winning. The two of them spent a long, pleasant afternoon sitting together on the swing in Marian’s front yard and tossing around costume themes that would be good for couples.

It was Harold who opened the conversation. “Well, I’ve done some thinking, and I must say I like the idea of going as King Henry VIII – as he looked in his younger, more handsome years, of course.”

Marian burst into laughter. “A merry, egotistical king – why I am not surprised that’s the first thing you came up with? And which of your six queens shall I be? Anne Boleyn, perhaps, with a red ribbon at my throat?”

“A crimson choker with rubies, perhaps,” Harold mused, looking intrigued. He delicately brushed her slender neck, his fingers leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake.

“Harold… ” Marian began, in a softer voice than she had intended. It wasn’t that she wasn’t enjoying his caress – she most certainly was – but it was broad daylight, and they were sitting where anyone could walk by and see them.

But Harold was never a man to care much for propriety. “I like the way you think, Madam Librarian,” he said in the low, velvety tone that indicated he was seconds away from kissing her.

Marian turned her head, and his lips landed on her cheek. “Now Harold, if you don’t knock that off, we won’t get a single thing done!” she said severely.

“What were we supposed to do, again?” he asked, looking a bit befuddled.

“Decide our costumes for the contest at the Halloween masque,” she reminded him with an exasperated smile.

His expression was still one of confusion. “I thought we already decided that. I’m going as Henry VIII and you as Anne Boleyn – with a crimson ruby choker.”

“Oh, I never consented to that!” Marian replied with a laugh. “You’re the one who was so keen on that idea. But you’re forgetting that I’m a fair-skinned blonde, whereas Anne Boleyn was known for her dark hair and olive complexion. People will think I’m Katherine Howard!”

“You have a fair point,” Harold conceded, though his face fell a bit. “We could get you a brunette wig,” he said hopefully.

Marian shook her head. “To tell you the truth, Anne Boleyn is a bit too grim for my tastes. But I do like the idea of us going as royalty – our costumes would be stunning! If it’s opulence you want, how about we dress up as Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette?”

Harold chuckled. “Another beheaded queen, my dear little librarian? You just said Anne Boleyn was too grim for you!”

“Yes, but Marie Antoinette wasn’t executed by her own husband,” Marian retorted – then blushed as she realized what she had said. Harold was sure to think she was dropping hints, and the last thing she wanted to do was give him the idea that she was one of those desperate women who thought of nothing but marriage. While Marian could not deny she sometimes daydreamed about Harold proposing to her, she had been extremely careful about not doing or saying anything that would put pressure on him.

Indeed, Marian saw a brief flash of emotion in Harold’s eyes. But before she could determine what it was, he broke into a grin. “How lucky I am, to have such a clever lady by my side! You’re absolutely right – King Henry and Anne Boleyn is not an auspicious costume theme for a happy couple! But do you really think that the poor, guillotined Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette would be any more suitable?”

Marian smiled sheepishly. “I hadn’t thought things through well enough before I spoke – ”

Harold put a gentle finger to her lips. “I’m only teasing, darling,” he said kindly. “I think it’s a wonderful idea! In fact, I’m a little jealous that I hadn’t thought of it first. Besides, the French queen’s pastel gown and white bouffant would suit your complexion much better than one of Anne Boleyn’s jewel-colored dresses.”

“Just what I was thinking,” Marian agreed, relieved that her blunder hadn’t led to anything serious.

Silence fell between them. Normally, Marian would have been content to sit quietly with Harold, feeling the warmth of his arm around her as he rocked the swing gently back and forth. But now she was uneasy – all she could think of was the little flash of something she had seen in Harold’s eyes.

After a few moments, Marian sneaked a glance at Harold. She was a bit startled to see him staring intently at her. He smiled when their eyes met, as if he had been waiting for her to turn to him.

“What is it?” she asked apprehensively.

He gave her a mischievous look. “I was just thinking… now that we’ve finally got the matter of our costumes settled, there’s still the little matter of that kiss you owe me.”

Marian knew she shouldn’t encourage such naughtiness, but he was giving her _that_ look again – the one she could never turn away from. “What kiss?” she whispered.

Harold leaned closer. “Repayment, for the one you dodged earlier... ” Before she could protest, he met her mouth with his.

Once Harold started kissing her, Marian could never resist him. No longer caring where they were or who could see them, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer. As always, Harold enthusiastically welcomed her deepening of their embrace.

“Marian!” Mrs. Paroo’s shrill voice rang out from the front porch.


	2. Caught in the Act

Marian and Harold broke apart to see Mrs. Paroo standing a few feet away, surveying them with an inscrutable expression.

“Mama!” Marian gasped, trying to smooth a few strands of wayward hair back into her bun. “Harold and I were just discussing our costumes for the Halloween masque.”

“Oh, really? It didn’t look to me like there was a whole lot of talking going on,” the woman observed wryly.

Harold came to Marian’s rescue. “Top of the afternoon, Mrs. Paroo!” he said in his usual charming, devil-may-care manner. “You caught us just as we had reached our decision. You see, the ancient Romans used a kiss to seal agreements, and I thought – ”

“All right, Professor, I get the picture,” Mrs. Paroo said with a laugh. “But if you two are at the point where you’re carrying on like that in my front yard in the middle of the afternoon, it’s high time you got married!”

Marian winced – though she had said nothing, her mother certainly wasn’t shy about making leading statements to Harold regarding the topic of marriage. Still, this was strong, even for Mrs. Paroo.

But Harold handled her remark with his usual adept smoothness. “What you saw was entirely my fault, Mrs. Paroo. You have my solemn promise that I’ll behave with more decorum in the future.” He stood up. “Well, the hour is growing late, and I’ve got a costume to start working on. Until tomorrow, Mrs. Paroo, Miss Marian.” With a tip of his hat, he took his leave.

Once Harold had disappeared around the corner, Marian rounded on her mother. “Mama – how could you embarrass me like that in front of Harold?”

Mrs. Paroo was unmoved. “You were both doing a pretty good job of making a spectacle of yourselves without my help. You’re lucky it was me who interrupted, and not Mrs. Shinn or one of the other ladies!”

Marian blushed. “I meant your comment about marriage – are you trying to scare him away? It’s miracle enough that a traveling salesman has decided to give up his profession and settle down in one place. He needs more time – ”

“Time, eh?” her mother replied. “If Harold Hill was a soufflé out of the oven, he’d have fallen already. He’s set up his music emporium and bought a house – which, from what I’ve heard, he’s spared no expense in furnishing and decorating. What else is left?”

Marian sighed at her mother’s single-minded focus on the prosaic. “Professor Harold Hill’s Music Emporium is still in its fragile, early stages of existence. And as for those stories about his house, they’re just idle gossip, Mama. If Professor Hill wishes to propose to me, he’ll do it when he’s good and ready – and not a moment before.”

“Yes, but dropping a few ladylike hints here and there can go a long way in helping things along faster.” Mrs. Paroo raised an eyebrow at her daughter. “You don’t want to lose him, do you?”

“I’m not going to lose him,” Marian said – but with more conviction than she actually felt. Privately, she was starting to wonder if her mother didn’t have a point. She thought back to the many conversations she and Harold had shared in the past three months. In all their time together, Harold hadn’t said the word _marriage_ once. Marian was sure she would have remembered if he had. But she did remember all the loving looks he had given her, and all the details he had divulged about his checkered past. Surely, those counted for something – they were a concrete demonstration that he cared about and trusted her, which was a good start for two people in the process of building a life together.

Marian smiled and shook her head – she was just being silly. “Mama, you still haven’t asked me about my costume for the Halloween masque. I have a picture I want to show you… ”


	3. Happy Anniversary

It was twenty minutes past one o’clock on Wednesday, October twenty-third, and Harold Hill still hadn’t shown up to the Paroo home for his lunch date with Marian. He had been due to arrive at noon to help her put the finishing touches on their costumes for the Halloween masque, which was only a week and a day away.

At twelve thirty, when Marian and her mother were cleaning up the lunch dishes, Mrs. Paroo looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. “Wasn’t Professor Hill supposed to visit us this afternoon?”

Marian repressed a sigh as she put the remaining dish back into the cabinet. “Yes, Mama.”

Her mother looked surprised. “He’s never been late for a social call before.”

“I’m sure he has a very good reason for his tardiness,” Marian replied, her tone nonchalant. But she was starting to feel an unpleasant flutter in her stomach – did his unexplained absence mark the beginning of what she had always feared? Marian promptly muzzled such distrusting thoughts. “You know how busy Professor Hill is with his new emporium; he might have been delayed.”

“Hmm,” Mrs. Paroo said skeptically. Not wanting to be drawn into another argument, Marian ignored her mother and started working on the costumes herself.

When one thirty rolled around, the twinge of uneasiness in Marian’s stomach had developed into full-blown dread. _Where could he be?_ she wondered anxiously. Perhaps there had been an accident – but no, someone would have brought her the news by now. _And speaking of bringing news_ , Marian thought with a flash of irritation, _why couldn’t Harold at least have had the courtesy to send word, if he knew he was going to be delayed?_

Marian had planned to spend a good portion of the afternoon working on their costumes – with or without Harold – but her mother’s constant _ahems_ and glances at the parlor clock were driving her mad. When the hour hand reached two, Marian stood up and put everything away. “Mama, when Harold comes by” – she refused to say _if_ – “tell him I was sorry to have missed him, and that I’m at the library, if he’s looking for me.”

“Oh, I’ll tell Professor Hill something,” her mother muttered darkly, “but I’m not sure it’ll be exactly those words… ”

“Mama, please,” Marian pleaded. “I’m sure this is all just a big misunderstanding.”

Mrs. Paroo’s expression softened. “I hope so, darling – for your sake,” she said tenderly.

XXX

Marian hadn’t lied to her mother – she did intend to return to the library – but when she rounded the corner of West Elm Street, she couldn’t bring herself to go any further. The rut in the road seemed to have reappeared, beckoning her back into a humdrum life.

_Never!_ Marian vowed. Even if Harold had abandoned her, she refused to slip back into the old pattern of going back and forth from home to work, all the while regarding the world around her with an unsmiling expression. Marian didn’t need to go back to the library just yet; she hadn’t planned on reopening the doors until four o’clock. Turning around, Marian set off for the Candy Kitchen instead. She needed to clear her head and take her mind off things – a strawberry phosphate would do the trick nicely.

As Marian neared the Candy Kitchen, she caught sight of Harold. He was inside the establishment, sitting at a small table with Zaneeta Shinn. Marian froze – thankfully, Harold’s back was to her, and Zaneeta was too engrossed in their conversation to notice the librarian’s presence outside.

With a sly grin and quick look around the room, Harold reached into his pocket and drew out a small packet. Marian edged closer to the window, dying to know what he was doing, but her view was blocked by his back. The item he had in his hands must have really been something – the moment Zaneeta saw it, she gaped at Professor Hill. Marian saw the teen mouth her trademark phrase “Ye gods!” and give a little giggle. Then Harold returned the packet to his pocket, and the two of them stood up.

Desperate to avoid being caught eavesdropping, Marian fled, not stopping until she had reached the sanctuary of the library. Thankfully, there was no one waiting to be let in; she couldn’t have mustered up the energy to smile and exchange pleasantries to save her life.

Surrounded only by her lifeless books – which could provide inspiration and knowledge but not a warm shoulder or sympathetic ear – Marian burst into tears.

XXX

After Marian locked the library doors at eight o’clock, she turned to see Harold waiting for her with a smile, as if nothing was wrong.

“Professor Hill,” Marian said curtly, giving him a perfunctory nod as she passed by.

Harold looked at her with concerned eyes. “Say, what’s all this about?” he inquired, falling into step next to her.

Marian said nothing, her gaze riveted to the road before them.

“Well, this _is_ a chilly evening,” he remarked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said crossly. “It’s actually quite warm for this time of year.”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about the weather,” Harold replied. She could hear the amusement in his voice. “In fact, I’d say it feels a bit like the evening of July third, when we first met.”

Marian stopped and spun on her heel until she was facing him. “You stand up the woman you supposedly love without a single word of explanation – and you’re calling _me_ cold?”

“What’s this?” he asked, mystified.

“We were supposed to work on our costumes for the masque this afternoon,” she reminded him in an icy voice.

Harold’s eyes widened. “Wait a minute – that was supposed to be _today_?”

Now it was Marian’s turn to be confused. “Why, yes!”

“Oh, darling, I’m so sorry,” he said contritely. “I had us down for doing that tomorrow!”

The awful knot of pain in Marian’s heart started to loosen. “You did?” she said hopefully.

He let out a relieved laugh. “Well, it’s no wonder you’re so angry with me! What a careless mistake, on my part.”

Marian laughed as well, eagerly taking Harold’s hand when he offered it to her. After an afternoon of misery, life was wonderful again! “Forgive me, Harold,” she said repentantly. “I should have known you had a good reason for not meeting me earlier.”

He gave her hand a little squeeze. “You’re too kind, Marian. It’s a terrible reason! I’ll have to keep a more careful eye on my calendar in the future.”

Marian smiled. “So, how was your afternoon?”

“Oh, very dull and difficult indeed,” Harold said wearily. “I’m having a bit more difficulty with the music emporium than I anticipated, what with all the red tape involved in establishing and licensing a legitimate business. Things were much easier when I could just hang out a shingle and collect the cash – not that I want to return to that kind of life, of course,” he quickly added at her alarmed look. “But I would have much rather spent the afternoon in your company, believe me!”

Marian considered his words. When she had seen Harold at the Candy Kitchen earlier, he certainly didn’t look like the busy and harried person he was describing. _Let it go, Marian_ , her mind warned. But she found herself broaching the subject anyway. “And when did you find the time during this boring, work-filled afternoon to escort Miss Shinn to the Candy Kitchen?” she asked archly. “Or was that just your doppelganger?”

Harold didn’t even flinch. “Now, where did you get a crazy idea like that?” he said with a laugh. “I just told you – I spent the entire afternoon at the music emporium.”

Marian dropped all pretense of lightheartedness. “I saw you, Harold.”

His smile disappeared. “What did you see?” he asked in a sober voice.

At this confirmation that he had indeed been lying to her, the dull ache crept back into Marian’s heart. “At two o’clock, I decided to stop at the Candy Kitchen before returning to the library,” she said quietly. “Through the window, I spotted you and Zaneeta sitting together at a table. Is there something you wish to tell me, Harold?”

Harold’s eyes moved rapidly from side to side – Marian could almost see the excuses running frantically through his mind. But finally, he sighed and shook his head.

Marian nodded grimly. “Goodnight, Professor Hill.”

This time, he didn’t follow her.

XXX

“Did you find out what happened to Professor Hill?” Mrs. Paroo asked the moment Marian walked through the door.

The librarian nodded. “He was indisposed,” she said tersely.

“Indisposed?” her mother asked, incredulous. “And just what does that mean, exactly – if you don’t mind my asking?”

Marian turned to Amaryllis, who was staring at them with undisguised curiosity from her seat at the piano. “Now, don’t dawdle, Amaryllis! Play the legato/staccato piece you were just working on, from the beginning… ”

XXX

An hour later, when Marian was finishing up with Amaryllis, Mrs. Paroo let out a gasp. “Marian! What’s the school board doing, standing on our front lawn?” She lifted the lace curtain for a better look. “And is that Professor Hill behind them?”

Marian dashed over to the window. The moment the school board caught sight of her, they started singing.

_It’s you in the sunrise, it’s you in my cup_   
_It’s you all the way into town…_

Feeling as if she was in some kind of strange but wonderful dream, Marian opened the front door and went outside. Mrs. Paroo and Amaryllis followed quickly behind.

The members of the school board tipped their hats to her, but Marian only saw Harold. She walked over to him and took his outstretched hand, her eyes welling up with tears.

“Happy anniversary, darling,” Harold said softly, once the school board had finished their song and bade her goodnight.

Marian laughed a little and wiped her eyes. “You really don’t fight fair, do you? How’s a girl supposed to stay angry after – wait a minute, did you say anniversary?”

He nodded. “It’s been exactly three months since our first kiss on the footbridge. And I thought, what better way to mark the occasion than a serenade by moonlight?”

“And I suppose our fight earlier had nothing at all to do with this pleasant surprise?” she said teasingly.

“Perhaps it did, a little bit,” Harold conceded with a sheepish grin.

“Well, it still doesn’t explain why you lied to me about your whereabouts earlier,” she scolded – though her smile ruined the effect.

Marian could tell Harold had prepared for this question – he answered her with his usual glib ease. “I needed a woman’s opinion.”

“Well, I’m a woman, aren’t I?” she asked with a laugh.

“You are the best of women,” Harold said sincerely. “But it was for a gift.”

“A gift?” Marian asked excitedly. “For our anniversary?”

“Something like that,” Harold replied in a furtive voice. He gazed at her with a longing look. “Take a stroll with me?”

Marian felt a thrill of joy upon hearing Harold’s secret way of inviting her for a romantic rendezvous at the footbridge. He hadn’t asked her there for weeks and, after her mother had caught them embracing in the front yard, she hadn’t expected an invitation from him so soon.

But before she gave her consent, Marian gazed questioningly back at the front porch, where Mrs. Paroo and Amaryllis were still standing. She saw from her mother’s admiring expression that Harold Hill had atoned for his transgression, in spades.

“Oh, go on, you two!” Mrs. Paroo said with a merry laugh. “But have her home by ten, Professor!”

After a polite nod to Mrs. Paroo, Harold whisked Marian off to the footbridge – where he proceeded to make her forget she had ever been angry with him.


	4. Dress Rehearsal

Marian gasped as her mother pulled the laces on the back of her bodice closed. “Mama – did you have to make the costume so tight? I won’t be able to breathe!”

“This was all your idea, remember?” Mrs. Paroo said, amused. “I just went by the picture you showed me.”

But her mother went back and loosened the strings a bit. Marian took a grateful gulp of air and reached for her fan, thinking a stream of fresh air to her face would help. _No wonder women fainted all the time in those days!_ she thought.

Marian’s inspiration for her costume had been the beautiful sky-blue, gold-embroidered gown worn by Marie Antoinette in _The Young Queen_ painting by Lie Louis Périn-Salbreux. But when the librarian had come up with the idea of being Marie Antoinette, she hadn’t considered the necessity of period-appropriate undergarments. Marian wished she could just wear her normal corset beneath her gown, but she couldn’t – her silhouette would be all wrong.

It was eight o’clock on the night before the Halloween masque, and Harold was due to arrive at eight thirty to escort her to the high school gymnasium for a final rehearsal of the minuet they were planning to perform at the ball. Ethel Toffelmier would also be present at this rehearsal, as she had agreed to run the player piano for them.

“There you go!” Mrs. Paroo said happily as she finished up the lacing and smoothed out a few remaining wrinkles in the fabric of Marian’s train. “Why don’t you turn for me, darling?”

Marian obliged and gave a little twirl, the skirt of her gown flowing gracefully around her. When she caught sight of herself in the mirror, she gave a little gasp of wonder. Her bodice may have been a bit uncomfortable, but the costume was gorgeous!

“That’s a pretty dress, sister!” a blithe voice rang out from the hall.

She turned to see Winthrop standing in the doorway, clothed in the garb of a knight. While Marian was at the gymnasium, Mrs. Paroo planned to put the finishing touches on his costume.

Marian smiled. She had expected Winthrop to choose a pirate or cowboy, or something equally rough and tumble, but he had surprised her by electing to be a knight of the Round Table. “Thank you, Winthrop,” she said, beaming. “And I see your knight costume is almost ready.”

“I’m not just any old knight,” he informed her with his charming lisp. “I’m Sir Lancelot du Lac!”

“Is that so?” she gently teased. “This doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that Amaryllis is going as Lady Guinevere, does it?” At one of Amaryllis’ previous piano lessons – which Winthrop just happened to be present for – the girl had excitedly chattered to Marian about her costume.

Instead of blushing and squirming, as would have been usual, Winthrop rolled his eyes good naturedly. “Oh, sister, wherever did you get such a silly idea?”

Mrs. Paroo chuckled. “Been taking lessons from Professor Hill, have you, dear?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the boy said with dignity. “Mother, sister – I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

“Of course, darling,” Mrs. Paroo replied, her expression serious.

Giving the ladies a polite nod, Winthrop departed. After he had gone, Marian and her mother looked at each other and burst into laughter.

“I must say, that was uncanny!” Mrs. Paroo chortled, wiping her eyes once they had settled down.

“Yes, it was,” Marian said with a wry grin. “I think I need to have a little talk with Professor Hill and find out what else he’s been teaching my brother. Speaking of Harold – what time is it?”

Mrs. Paroo looked at her watch. “Eight thirty-five.”

Marian gasped. “What am I still doing up here? He could be knocking at the door right now!” She started to exit her bedroom, but forgot to account for the width of her voluminous gown – she ended up knocking a vase off an end table as she brushed by it. When Marian turned to assess the damage – her skirt swirling around wildly – a perfume bottle on the vanity opposite the end table fell to the floor with a crash.

“Mama, I’m so sorry!” she apologized, giving a frustrated laugh. “It’s no wonder queens have servants – they can’t do a thing in their fancy gowns, except pose for paintings!” Marian started to bend over – a task her stiff corset made quite difficult – but her mother put a steadying hand on her shoulder.

“Let me handle it, darling – you’ll just end up bringing the house down around our ears!” Mrs. Paroo scolded. “Besides, you don’t want to be late for Professor Hill, do you?”

Adopting a statelier pace, Marian left her mother and descended down the stairs to the first floor. It was a good thing they were having a dress rehearsal before the masque; she really needed the practice! If she couldn’t even manage to walk two steps without leaving catastrophe in her wake, how was she going to perform the intricate steps of the minuet with any sort of accuracy – let alone grace?

Fortunately, Marian managed to reach the parlor without further incident. Harold had indeed arrived already; he was seated in one of the wingback chairs and deep in conversation with Winthrop. But the moment she entered the room, Harold excused himself and went over to her.

“Oh, Miss Marian, you look wonderful!” he said admiringly.

She took his proffered hand. “I must say, I do feel like a queen in this gown.”

Harold twirled her around. “Stunning,” he pronounced. “Such grace – such regal bearing! Are you sure you’re not descended from royalty, my dear librarian?”

“You are a flatterer, Professor Hill,” Marian said, shaking her head. She looked at Harold, who was wearing the same suit as when she had seen him earlier that day. “Why aren’t you wearing your costume?”

“Ethel Toffelmier is going to be at the gymnasium, isn’t she?” he said with a twinkle in his eyes. “I know she swore up and down that she wouldn’t reveal our costumes to a soul, but you know the first thing she’ll do tomorrow morning is tell Mrs. Shinn and the other ladies everything. Why show her more than we have to?”

Marian laughed. “I agree – that’s why I didn’t bother with my hair or any unnecessary accessories.”

“But who cares what she says?” Harold went on, casting a glance at Winthrop before leaning in and whispering, “Even if every woman in River City finds out every last detail of your costume beforehand, there’s nothing any of them can do to outshine you – ever.”

Harold had been complimenting Marian since his arrival, but now there was something decidedly fervent in his tone that made her feel lightheaded.

“Sister!” Winthrop cried, rushing over to her as she started to sway. Harold caught her before she fell to the floor.

Marian took a deep breath to steady herself. “This silly bodice,” she said apologetically. “I think it’s a bit too tight.”

“Winthrop – why don’t you get your sister a glass of water?” Harold suggested.

“Right!” the boy said promptly, and disappeared into the kitchen.

Even though the two of them were now alone, Harold spoke in a low voice. “Forgive me for broaching such a delicate topic – but are you wearing a grand corps corset?”

Marian blushed and nodded.

“Your attention to detail and historical accuracy is admirable,” Harold began, “but have you thought of – going without?”

She backed away from him, scandalized. “Professor Hill!”

“Now, hear me out,” he persisted. “It’s not well known, but for a brief period of time, Marie Antoinette wore no corset beneath her gowns. She found the grand corps too restrictive, and it took diplomatic intervention by the Austrian ambassador to convince her to resume wearing it on a regular basis.”

Marian was both fascinated and appalled by the direction their conversation had taken. “Are you sure you aren’t just telling me a tale?” she asked skeptically.

“No, it’s the God’s honest truth,” he replied, his expression serious.

Her blush deepened. “Well, it’s hardly a suitable topic of discussion.”

“Well, excuse me if I don’t want my beloved fainting on the dance floor!” Harold said in an affronted voice – though he winked at her.

Before she could issue a retort, Winthrop returned with the water.

“Well, what say we get going to the gymnasium?” Harold asked once Marian had drained her glass.

Marian nodded and handed the empty cup to her brother. “Thank you, Winthrop. Please say goodbye to Mama for me.”

He regarded his sister with apprehensive eyes. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Don’t worry, son, I’ll take good care of your sister,” Harold reassured the boy. “But now, we’ve really got to get going.”

“Well, make sure you have her home by ten,” Winthrop admonished.

Harold showed the child as much deference as he did Mrs. Paroo. “You have my word,” he said with a little bow.

XXX

As the two of them glided around the gymnasium floor to Handel’s _Minuet from Berenice_ , Marian noted with relief that dancing in her Marie Antoinette gown turned out to be much easier than she had thought. As Harold had explained earlier, the minuet was invented in the French court; its steps formed especially to accommodate for the courtiers’ elegant, but cumbersome, clothing.

“A childhood of dancing lessons – forced on me by my well-meaning mother – came in handy after all,” Harold told her with a rueful smile.

In sharp contrast to the fast-paced, ragtime Shipoopi, the minuet was a slow, stately dance. But Marian’s heart was racing just as much now as it had the warm summer night she danced the Shipoopi with Harold. There was something incredibly romantic about the leisurely music, the graceful turns and twirls, the clasping and unclasping of hands. When the two of them came close together, their eyes locked in a brief, intense gaze – which was made all the more electric by its abrupt end as they turned away from each other.

The song happened to come to a stop when Marian and Harold were standing inches apart, staring at each other. After a few moments, Marian realized she was gasping for breath, and struggled to regain her composure.

“Are you all right?” Harold asked. She noticed that his breathing was rather labored, as well.

Not trusting herself to speak, Marian nodded.

A burst of applause rang out; they turned to see Ethel Toffelmier gazing at them with a rapt expression. “Oh, that was just beautiful!” she sighed. “If there was a dance contest, you two would win it, for sure! And wait’ll Mrs. Shinn and the others hear – I mean, see how lovely your costume is, Miss Paroo.”

Marian and Harold exchanged a small smile. “Well, we couldn’t have done it without you, Miss Toffelmier,” Harold said appreciatively, making the woman beam with pleasure.

XXX

Harold was unusually quiet on the walk back to the Paroo house. At first, Marian didn’t notice – she was too distracted by her own jumbled thoughts – but as soon as she realized how awkward the silence was, she felt compelled to fill it.

“Well, I think our rehearsal went pretty well, don’t you?” Marian asked, trying to keep her voice light. “And you were right – Ethel Toffelmier is sure to tell Mrs. Shinn and the others everything as soon as she sees them tomorrow. Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if she paid them all a visit tonight, she was so effusive with her compliments! Don’t you agree, Harold… Harold?”

He slowly turned toward her, as if he was coming out of a stupor. “I’m sorry,” he said contritely. “I didn’t catch that last part. What did you say, sweetheart?”

Knowing Harold hadn’t heard any of what she said, Marian gave him an indulgent smile. “Nothing important, darling. I was just remarking on how successful the evening turned out to be.”

“Mmm,” he agreed, lapsing back into his daze.

So Marian fell silent and just let Harold be. But as they walked along, she watched him out of the corners of her eyes. Marian noted with some concern that in addition to looking preoccupied, he also looked tired – almost haggard. She wondered if he was stretching himself too thin with all his activities; he certainly had the look of a man who had been burning the candle at both ends.

“Well, here we are,” Marian announced once they had reached her front gate.

Her statement seemed to stir something in Harold – all of a sudden he was standing face to face with Marian, giving her that ardent, heated look he saved for times when they were truly alone together.

She started to feel faint again; Harold threw his arms around her. “Marian!”

“I’m all right,” she assured him, though her voice was a bit strained.

Harold still didn’t let go of her. Instead, he just looked at her as if he wanted to tell her something – something important. “Marian, I – ” he began, and then faltered.

“Yes?” she asked, breathless with anticipation.

He opened his mouth and then closed it again, as if he couldn’t find the right words with which to express himself. As Marian marveled at his speechlessness, he leaned in and crushed his mouth against hers.

Harold had never before kissed her with such ferocious intensity, not even when they were alone together on the footbridge. His embrace had been heartfelt, of course, but Marian had always sensed he held something back. Now Harold seemed to have no such reserve. And if Marian was helpless in his arms before, she was doubly so now. She couldn’t end their kiss, not even when she felt her legs start to give way. Harold, being his usual obliging self, tightened his arms around her waist so she wouldn’t fall.

Marian wasn’t sure how long she had been standing there, clinging to Harold as he gave her the most passionate of kisses, when a pointed voice broke into their reverie.

“Well, so much for decorum!”

Mrs. Paroo was standing on the front porch, regarding them with stern eyes.

“Mama!” Marian gasped.

But Mrs. Paroo ignored her and turned to Harold. “Would you like to explain just what’s going on here, Professor Hill?” she asked severely.

Again, he seemed to be at a loss for words. “Forgive me, Mrs. Paroo, Miss Marian,” he finally said, and took his leave.

Once he had gone, Mrs. Paroo shifted her attention to her daughter. Marian gazed wordlessly back at her mother, unable to disguise with a neutral facial expression the tumult of emotion she was feeling.

Mrs. Paroo let out a sigh and put an arm around her trembling daughter. “Come on, let’s get you out of that dress and ready for bed. We’ve all got a big day tomorrow!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harold’s story about Marie Antoinette’s corset – or lack thereof – is supposedly true. Apparently, the grand corps corset was really that terrible. Just thought you’d like to know that little fun fact!


	5. On the Eve of the Masque

When the morning of Halloween dawned – cool, crisp and sunny – Marian awoke with a thrill of joy in the pit of her stomach. It was all she could do to keep from skipping and singing aloud. But when she entered the kitchen for breakfast, she saw her mother’s mood was much more subdued. And Mrs. Paroo’s sour look darkened a bit further when her gaze fell on Marian’s wide smile.

Marian carefully rearranged her features into a neutral expression. “Good morning, Mama,” she said nonchalantly.

“Hmm,” Mrs. Paroo replied, her voice suspicious. Marian expected a scolding to follow, but her mother simply asked, “Are you going to the library today?”

“Just for the morning,” she answered promptly, relieved to have avoided an argument. “Then I’ll be right home to help with chores.” Of course, most of those “chores” would involve final preparations for the masque, but Marian thought it best not to mention the upcoming festivities – or anything else that called to mind what had transpired the previous evening.

Mrs. Paroo nodded, and the remainder of their meal passed in silence. Finding the atmosphere oppressive, Marian didn’t linger in the kitchen as long as she normally would have. After hastily clearing her breakfast dishes from the table, she kissed her mother on the cheek and bade her good morning.

Once Marian had exited the house, she relaxed and let her joy shine through. What a relief it was to be outside, where she didn’t have to hide her feelings! She even gave into temptation and burst into a cheerful rendition of _It’s You_.

As Marian rounded the corner of West Elm, singing her heart out, she came upon Professor Hill. He was leaning against a lamppost, looking as if he had been waiting there for some time. When he grinned upon seeing her, she saw the same brilliant happiness radiating from his expression.

“Top of the morning to you, Miss Marian!” he said jovially, giving her a tip of his hat.

“Professor Hill!” she greeted him, thrilled by this unexpected meeting. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting to see you, of course,” he replied, offering her his arm. “It was such a beautiful morning; I thought I’d take the time from my busy schedule to escort you to the library.”

Marian beamed as her eyes met his. The passionate kiss they had shared the night before still hung between them; a delightful secret that could not be detected by the casual glances of other passerby on the road. “Is that so?” she asked provocatively. “Then why didn’t you knock on the front door, as you usually do when you wish to see me?”

He smirked at her. “And how _is_ your mother this morning?”

“Still a bit miffed,” she admitted.

Harold gave her a pensive look. “And yourself?” he ventured.

“I’m happier than I have ever been in all my life,” Marian said truthfully.

He broke into a grin; she could see the relief in his expression. “I’m glad, darling.”

The rest of their walk was spent in a wonderfully companionable silence. When Harold said farewell to Marian at the main entrance of the library, he did not kiss her, but the ardent look in his eyes was enough to make her feel giddy for quite some time afterward.

XXX

When Marian closed the library at noon, Harold was there to escort her home. Both of them agreed it would probably be best if he didn’t join her for lunch, so Harold bade Marian a quick goodbye just before she turned the corner to her house.

But Mrs. Paroo’s mood seemed to have improved greatly in the last few hours; she cheerfully welcomed her daughter home and kept up a steady flow of chatter as they ate lunch and made sure everything was in order for the Halloween masque. Even though Marian was suspicious at this sudden change in her mother’s demeanor, she didn’t question it – it was lovely not to have such a gloomy pall cast over what promised to be a wonderful evening.

After Mrs. Paroo had laced up her daughter’s bodice, she left to help Winthrop with his costume. While her mother was thus occupied, Marian swept her hair up into a bouffant, leaving some curls hanging loose. She had refused to wear a wig – her hair was a light enough shade already, and she hated to hide what she considered one of her best features. Harold had initially debated the matter with her – he was going to have to wear a wig, and so felt she should, too – but after a little discussion (and a few persuasive kisses), Marian had him insisting that she shouldn’t “cover up her crowning glory.”

Once the bouffant was in place, Marian added glass jewels to her hair. Her favorite decoration was the small cluster of rubies arranged in the shape of a scarlet pimpernel. As she admired her handiwork in the mirror, she wondered if Harold would catch the reference. Once she had finished with all her baubles and beads, Marian completed her ensemble with a gold-painted eye mask.

Mrs. Paroo entered the bedroom. “Oh, you look wonderful, darling!” she said, her eyes shining.

Marian observed her mother was clothed in her best Sunday dress. “You’re not wearing a costume, Mama?”

Mrs. Paroo waved her hand dismissively. “I thought I’d leave the fun to all you young folks. And besides – having to prepare two costumes was work enough! What time is Professor Hill due to arrive?”

This was the first time either of them had mentioned Harold that afternoon. Marian felt a little twinge of nervousness as she replied, “He said he’d be here at six-thirty.”

“Oh, good,” Mrs. Paroo said cheerfully. “I can’t wait to see what his costume looks like!”

XXX

Harold’s Louis XVI ensemble was just as stunning as Marian’s Marie Antoinette gown. He had modeled his costume on the A. F. Callet portrait, _Louis XVI of France_ – beneath his fur-trimmed royal robe, Harold wore a silver waistcoat and breeches over white silk stockings and buckled shoes. He was even carrying a cane. And of course, he wore his fancy white wig.

Marian wasn’t the only one who was impressed. “Goodness, Professor, I hardly recognized you at first!” Mrs. Paroo cried when she opened the door. Her eyes fell on his cloak. “Blessed Saint Martin of Tours – is that real?”

Harold’s eyes twinkled from the slits of his black half mask. “Nope, just a little ingenuity and a lot of horsehair.”

“And glue,” Marian added quietly, recalling the long afternoons she had spent helping assemble this masterpiece.

Harold grinned at Marian as he looked her over. “Say, is this Queen Marie Antoinette, or Lady Marguerite Blakeney?”

Mrs. Paroo looked confused, but Marian was thrilled. “I just thought of the idea this afternoon, when I was putting the jewels in my hair.”

“A most appropriate adornment,” he said appreciatively. “I know I shouldn’t be surprised that a well-read librarian would come up with such a thing, but you continue to amaze me with your cleverness, Miss Marian.”

Mrs. Paroo rolled her eyes. “Enough of that nonsense, now, or we’ll be late to the masque! Marian, have you got everything? And you, Winthrop?”

Brother and sister both nodded and, without further ado, they all set out for the armory.

XXX

The four of them arrived at the masque at the same time as several others. As they joined the throng of costumed partygoers streaming into the armory, Marian and Harold exchanged whispered, laughing commentary with each other as they spotted people they knew.

“Is that Mrs. Shinn and her friends dressed as various Greek goddesses?” Marian asked with a smile. “And they’re in the same chitons they wore for their ‘Grecian Urn’ demonstration last summer, if I’m not mistaken! They’re nothing, if not practical.”

Harold chuckled. “Yes, all except for Ethel Toffelmier. She’s over there with Marcellus – it looks like they came as Lord and Lady Macbeth.”

“And there are Zaneeta and Tommy! But what are they supposed to be?”

Zaneeta was wearing a long, flowing scarlet gown. The sleeves had been slashed in several places, the fabric rippling gracefully every time she moved her slender arms. Her stockings and shoes were the same shade of scarlet as her dress, and she wore a sheer, red veil over her face. Marian would have guessed Zaneeta was Princess Scheherazade, but Tommy wasn’t dressed like King Shahryar. Instead, he wore a black tuxedo and black gloves. He had also painted his face white, with a circle of black roman numerals.

Harold looked just as stumped as Marian. “Well, now, I honestly couldn’t tell you what they’re supposed to be. But knowing them, it’s probably something remarkable.”

They weren’t the only two who had spotted the teens. Mayor Shinn – who was dressed as Abraham Lincoln – stormed over to his daughter. “What in tarnation is this indecency? No dress of mine is going to wear a daughter like that in public!”

Zaneeta and Tommy exchanged a puzzled look. “Excuse me, sir?” Tommy asked.

Mayor Shinn rounded on the teen. “Aha, so you admit your guilt! You put her up to this, I suppose?”

Marian and Harold hurried over. “Good evening, Mayor Shinn, Tommy, Zaneeta,” Harold said amiably.

Mayor Shinn looked at Harold with a distrustful eye. Since Professor Hill had made good on his promise of setting up a boys’ band, relations had been better between the two men. But the mayor would always be a little skeptical. “Oh, it’s you. Come to put your oar in, eh?”

“No, I’ve never been much of a sailor,” Harold replied in a glib voice. “Miss Marian and I were just admiring Tommy and Zaneeta’s costumes, and we were hoping they would tell us how they came up with such a clever idea.”

“You mean, where did _he_ come up with it,” Mayor Shinn said, pointing in Tommy’s direction. “No daughter of mine – ”

“Papa, please!” Zaneeta interrupted. “The costumes were all my idea! We’re supposed to be red death and the ebony clock.”

“What?” her father asked, confused.

She rolled her eyes. “You know, from Edgar Allan Poe’s _Masque of the Red Death_. Ye gods!”

Mayor Shinn gaped at his daughter with a stunned, apoplectic expression.

“You didn’t have to say anything,” Tommy whispered to Zaneeta. “I would have taken the blame.”

“And how is that fair?” she whispered back. “Ye gods!”

Marian and Harold exchanged an amused look. “What did I tell you, darling,” Harold said. “Remarkable!”

“Mayor Shinn, do let Zaneeta stay,” Marian entreated. “They’re sure to win the costume contest – I’ve never seen anything so clever!”

As the town’s librarian and literary expert, Marian knew her word in such matters carried a lot of weight. Mayor Shinn harrumphed for a bit longer, but then he backed down. “All right, you can stay until the costume contest results are announced,” he said sternly to Zaneeta. “But if you lose, you’re to go right home!”

Once the mayor had stormed off, the teens gave Harold and Marian a relieved look. “Thanks, Professor, Miss Paroo,” Tommy said gratefully.

Harold opened his mouth to speak, but for once, Marian was quicker. “It was our pleasure, Tommy. And I meant what I said – you two are sure to win the contest!”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Tommy said bashfully. “You two look pretty swell, yourselves.”

“Why thank you, Tommy,” Harold replied. “But if you two will excuse us, I think I hear our song.”

Marian listened – Handel’s _Minuet from Berenice_ was indeed playing. Harold took her by the hand and led her out to the dance floor. “Well, this is it,” he said excitedly. “Let’s show them what we can do!”

A few other couples joined them in the dance – in the weeks before the masque, Harold had offered minuet lessons to anyone who wished to learn. But none of the others cut as fine a figure on the dance floor as he and Marian – at least, judging from the looks of awe they were getting from those standing on the sidelines.

“Well, the minuet was made for our costumes,” Harold reminded her when she shared this observation as they came close together.

“Rigged the contest in our favor, did you?” she asked with a smirk.

“No, just gave us a little edge.” He winked at her, and then they parted.

When they met in another handclasp, the mood between them had changed into something more serious. As always happened when they danced together, Marian found her heart thumping wildly and her breath coming faster. And from the look of Harold, he was experiencing the same symptoms.

All too soon, the music ended, and they were left staring into each other’s eyes as the other couples vacated the dance floor.

“Marian – will you take a stroll with me?” he asked meaningfully.

She nodded and took his hand.

As the two of them stealthily made their way to a side door, they were intercepted.

“Just a minute there, you two!” said a woman’s shrill voice.


	6. The Best-Laid Plans of Mice and Men

Mrs. Paroo marched over to them, Winthrop in tow. “And just where do you think you’re going?” she asked Professor Hill.

“Marian felt faint after our dance – I was taking her outside to get some fresh air,” he lied smoothly.

Mrs. Paroo looked her daughter over. “She seems fine to me.”

“Mama… ” Marian entreated in a whisper. She wondered what on earth her mother was doing; she had never tried to prevent them from leaving a place before!

But Mrs. Paroo didn’t take her eyes off Harold. “She’s not going anywhere with you until we get a few things clear!”

“Of course, Mrs. Paroo,” he said respectfully. “I would be happy to discuss anything with you, regarding my intentions toward your daughter.”

For a moment, Mrs. Paroo looked taken aback at this new frankness of his. But she soon recovered. “And just what are your intentions towards my daughter, Professor Hill?” she asked sternly.

“Well, I intend to marry Miss Marian,” he replied. “That is, if she’ll have me.”

Marian, who had been trying to suppress her tears of disappointment and mortification, looked at Harold with a gasp. “What did you say?” she asked, not trusting her ears.

Harold turned to her, a sheepish smile on his face. “Well, this isn’t the way I’d planned to propose – I was hoping to wait until we got to the footbridge – but what do they say? ‘The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry… ’” He removed a ring from the pocket of his costume. “So what do you say, Miss Marian? Will you accept the hand of a reformed conman who loves you more than life itself?”

At first, Marian’s joy was so great she could find no words, and she just beamed at him. Taking her elated expression for his answer, Harold slid the ring on her finger. Marian gazed fondly at the gleaming diamond solitaire. Now she knew why Zaneeta had been so excited, that day in the Candy Kitchen!

“Well, darling?” Harold asked gently after a few moments.

In response, Marian tore off her mask, and then reached for Harold’s.

He caught her hand in his. “But darling, it’s not midnight yet.”

“I don’t care – I have to look at you,” she insisted. “I have to know that this isn’t just a dream.”

“I assure you, it isn’t,” Harold said with a smile. But he let her proceed anyway.

When both of their masks had been removed, Marian planted an enthusiastic kiss on his lips. “In the past, I never cared much for Halloween, but now I think it will be my favorite holiday!” She kissed him again.

“So that’s where you were taking her – to propose?” Mrs. Paroo said, floored. “Well, for heaven’s sake, why did you let me spoil the surprise?”

Embarrassed, Marian ended her embrace with Professor Hill – she had forgotten they had an audience.

But Mrs. Paroo was too happy to be alarmed by her daughter’s impropriety. “Welcome to the family, Professor Hill!” she cried, catching Harold in a hug.

Winthrop still remained apart from things, gazing at the three of them with an inscrutable expression.

Harold was the first to notice. As soon as he did, he knelt down and looked the boy in the eye. “Well, son, now you know – I’m going to marry your sister. That’ll make us brothers. What do you think about that?”

Winthrop’s face broke into a grin. “That’s what I was hoping for, all along,” he said happily.

“Oh, Miss Marian, Professor Hill – you’re getting married? How wonderful!” said a bright little voice.

They all turned – Amaryllis had come up behind them. She was clad in a pale-blue, wide-sleeved medieval gown. Instead of her usual pigtails, she wore her hair loose and adorned with flowers. Marian reflected that she really did look adorable in her Lady Guinevere costume.

But Marian wasn’t the only one captivated. “Hi, Amaryllis,” Winthrop said nervously.

“Hi, Winthrop,” the girl replied with a giggle. “I like your knight costume – are you Sir Lancelot?” She looked expectantly at him for his response, but he just stared at the ground.

Harold gave the boy a little nudge, which did just the trick. “Would you give me the honor of the next dance, Amaryllis?” Winthrop said haltingly, tripping over his words a little.

Amaryllis beamed at him and dropped a little curtsy. “I would be delighted,” she said graciously.

Harold gestured to Marian as the two children ran to the dance floor. “Shall we join them, my dear?”

“What about our stroll?” she whispered.

He smiled. “I think that can wait – especially as I’ve achieved what I set out to do in the first place. And we don’t want to miss the results of the costume contest!”

So Harold and Marian danced the next few songs. They were much faster than the minuet, and Marian found herself tripping over her long skirts. If it wasn’t for Harold’s strong, steady hand on her waist, she would have gone tumbling to the floor.

“Well, I think I might have ruined any credibility we had on the dance floor,” Marian said with a laugh as he whirled her around. “So much for the costume contest!”

He drew her closer. “Doesn’t matter – I have the prize I wanted.”

Not long after the set had completed, Mrs. Shinn and the ladies of the Events Committee called the room to attention. “It is our pleasure to announce the winners of the Halloween Masque Costume Contest – Tommy Djilas and Zaneeta Shinn!”

With gleeful grins, the teens came forward to collect their award – a month of free ice cream at the Candy Kitchen. For the rest of the evening, Mayor Shinn could be heard loudly bragging to anyone who would listen about “my clever daughter!”

To celebrate their triumph, Tommy and Zaneeta requested the Shipoopi. Harold and Marian, who had been edging toward that side door again, instantly returned to the dance floor. Once the song had come to its rollicking, joyous end, Harold looked at her and said, “Miss Marian, I think it’s time we took that stroll now.”

XXX

“Are you sure you want to marry me?” Marian asked later, after they had been at the footbridge for awhile.

Harold goggled at her. “Marian, how could you ask me such a thing? Surely my commitment to our love should have been made clear to you the night I risked being tarred and feathered, for your sake!”

“Well, marriage is a little more permanent than tarring and feathering,” she said with a rueful smile.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Harold replied grimly. Unbuttoning his sleeve and rolling it up to his elbow, he showed her a blotchy red scar on his left forearm. “This was a close call in Appalachia. Marcellus caused a fortuitous distraction at just the right moment – this was back when he was shilling regularly for me – which allowed me to escape without further injury.”

“You poor dear,” Marian gasped, tracing the mark lightly with her fingers. She could understand how he had gotten himself into such a bind, of course, but it still pained her to see such an angry welt on the man she loved.

“Oh, that one’s nothing.” He winked at her as he rolled his sleeve back down. “But if you think that was bad, wait’ll you see some of the other scars I’ve sustained in my travels…”

Marian blushed and changed the subject. “Well, I guess that means we won’t be going to Virginia for our honeymoon tour. And speaking of which – what other places are off limits?” she asked, only half teasingly.

Harold took her hands in his. “Well, I was thinking I’d just rather stay home, with you. Marian – what’s wrong?” he asked in alarm when she burst into tears.

“I’m sorry,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I guess I still can’t believe that, after months of secretly hoping and dreaming, I’m finally going to get to marry you! How long have you been planning this?”

“I was always planning to marry you, Marian,” he said earnestly. “Everything I’ve done since settling in River City has been with that aim in mind – the music emporium, the new house. But I didn’t want to actually propose until the timing was right. So I guess you could say I was planning this ever since I came up with the idea of a Halloween masque.”

“And you kept things a secret for all that time!” she marveled.

He grinned. “Believe me – it wasn’t easy. Especially since I’ve been carrying the ring around in my pocket for weeks! There were a few times I was a mere second away from taking it out and proposing to you on the spot.”

“Like last night?” Marian said archly.

“Last night, this morning, last week at the footbridge on the night of our anniversary, the afternoon we discussed costumes on the swing in your front yard – take your pick!” Harold laughed. Then his smile faded. “About last night – I apologize again for my conduct. I guess it was just all the anticipation; after months of work, everything was about to happen. And then seeing you in that gown – ” He paused and blinked, as if to clear his head. “It was a momentary lapse in judgment; it won’t happen again. But Marian, I think we should get married as soon as we can arrange it – or else we’ll have to hire a chaperone!”

“I’d much rather the first option,” she said with a shy smile. “And I think Mama would like that, too.”

Harold chuckled. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she suggested we wed tomorrow!”

“When do you want to get married?” Marian asked seriously.

His answer was immediate, as if he had already given the matter some thought. “How about a month from now? That should give us enough time to plan a simple, yet elegant, affair.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “ _Simple_? Who are you, and what have you done with Harold Hill?” When he started to protest, she placed her hand over his mouth. “I’m only teasing! After all the ado surrounding your proposal – as thrilling and romantic of a surprise as it was – a simple wedding sounds ideal.”

“Speaking of surprises – I’m surprised you didn’t faint dead away when I proposed to you,” he said mischievously, eyeing her bodice. “Although, I must say I did notice you seemed to breathe a lot easier this evening.”

Embarrassed, Marian looked away.

“I’m sorry,” he said instantly. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, it’s all right,” Marian replied, making her eyes meet his again. “I suppose if you’re going to be my husband, such topics are no longer taboo. I did put aside the grand corps, in favor of my usual corset. But I do think my silhouette suffered a bit for it.”

Harold put his arms around her waist and pulled her close. “Darling, your silhouette is perfect – with a corset or not.”

There was nothing suggestive in Harold’s tone as he said these words; Marian only heard pure love and admiration. Even the kiss he followed this statement with was sweetly chaste. Yet somehow, Marian still felt like swooning – how was it that no matter what Harold did, he had this effect on her?

“Besides, I don’t think anyone noticed that your silhouette wasn’t strictly accurate,” Harold said, once their lips had parted.

“Except you,” she returned.

“That’s only because I notice everything about you,” he said with a grin. Then he paused and regarded her with a serious expression. “Marian – since we are going to be married and all, would you like to know my real name?”

She looked at him, awed. Though Harold had told her much about his past – his childhood, his life before he came to River City – he had never divulged this piece of information. And even though she did sometimes wonder, she had never asked. But as Marian gazed into the eyes of the man she loved, she realized it was enough that he had offered to tell her; she didn’t need to know.

So she shook her head. “To me – and everyone else in River City, I suspect – you’ll always be Professor Harold Hill. I could never call you or even think of you as any other name.”

Harold looked deeply touched. “You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve thought of myself by any other name, either,” he confessed.

“That’s because you truly are Harold Hill,” she said with spirit. “You might not have been him when you first came to town, but you certainly are now!”

He grinned again. “Better make that Harold Gregory Hill. I don’t think I’ll ever break Marcellus of the habit of calling me ‘Greg.’”

“Professor Harold Gregory Hill, then,” she agreed. “And I’ll be Mrs. Marian Paroo Hill.”

Harold tightened his embrace. “I like the sound of that,” he said in his low, velvety voice.

Their lips met again, and all conversation ceased.


	7. Epilogue: A New Leaf

If anyone had told Harold Hill that night in July when he first laid eyes on Marian Paroo that he was going to fall head over heels in love with her and forsake his career as a fraudulent traveling salesman, he would have laughed and wondered at the state of their mental health. But here it was, one year later, and he was waiting outside Madison Library to escort his wife home.

Harold would have been lying if he denied he had occasionally wondered if small-town life would eventually lose its allure, or if he and Marian would grow tired of each other. But to his delight, he found now that he fully had his Madam Librarian, a wonderful sense of peace and contentment had settled into his soul. Certainly, it wasn’t all roses and moonlight – they had had a few magnificent fights. But they made up just as intensely, which Harold always enjoyed. Life with Marian was never boring: She remained the same charming, tenacious, sometimes impossible but always fascinating woman.

Promptly as always, Marian exited the front doors at eight o’clock and locked them behind her. Then she turned to greet her husband with a smile.

“Good evening, darling,” Harold said warmly, dropping a quick kiss on her forehead. But she was not the only one whom he greeted: “And good evening to you, little one,” he said, placing a gentle hand on Marian’s curved stomach.

Since Marian had revealed they would be having a child sometime in October, Harold had taken to including the little one in their conversations. He did this quite often, as it never failed to make Marian’s eyes glow with happiness.

“Well, where do you want to go tonight, my dear?” Harold asked, once she had taken his arm. “Perhaps to the Candy Kitchen for a strawberry phosphate?”

Marian had always enjoyed strawberry phosphates, and her cravings for them had only intensified during pregnancy. Harold liked to joke that her need for all that sugar meant they were going to have a daughter – with his wife’s beautiful face, delicate honey-blonde ringlets and determined spirit, he always added with a grin. When Marian retorted they could very well have a son with his father’s gregarious nature and magnetic personality, he told her he sincerely hoped not. The world didn’t need another charming charlatan.

But Marian shook her head at Harold’s suggestion of the Candy Kitchen. “I’m definitely not in the mood for a strawberry phosphate,” she laughed. “In fact, I don’t know if I’ll ever want one again, especially after October!”

Harold laughed as well. “You say that now – but I wouldn’t be surprised if you changed your mind in an hour.”

“Are you saying I’m fickle?” she asked in mock outrage.

“No – you just have the charmingly capricious moods of the pregnant female,” he teased.

Marian swatted his arm. “Carrying a child isn’t as easy as it looks, I’ll have you know, darling.”

“I don’t doubt that!” he said sincerely, recalling a few sleepless nights he had spent doing everything he could think of to restore his ailing wife’s comfort. “But you do it beautifully, as you do everything else.” For this piece of heartfelt flattery, he was rewarded with another warm smile from his beloved.

“So where do you want to go then, my dear?” Harold went on. “To your mother’s? Or perhaps straight home?” he asked, noting with some concern that she looked a bit paler than usual.

Marian shook her head again. “I was actually thinking I might want to go on a stroll,” she suggested, giving him a sideways glance that never failed to make his heart beat faster, even after eight months of marriage.

He broke into a grin. “Your wish is my command – the footbridge, it is.”

XXX

As Harold embraced his wife, he felt something hit him in the gut. He pulled back from Marian a little and lightly patted her stomach. “Oh dear, am I squeezing you too much, little one?”

Marian gave a weary laugh. “The baby’s been doing that all day – I think he or she is getting a little restless.”

“Perhaps we will have a son, after all,” he marveled, touching the spot where he had felt the impact. “That was quite a kick! We might just have a future college football star on our hands.”

“Or perhaps it’s just all the sugar I’ve been feeding the little one,” Marian said ruefully. “Speaking of which, I could go for another strawberry phosphate… ”

“See? I knew it!” Harold said triumphantly. “And it’s not even an hour later.”

“Well, I should at least have a proper dinner first,” she sighed.

“Darling, if you really want a strawberry phosphate, don’t let my teasing stop you,” he said seriously. “I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty about it! Why don’t we head to the Candy Kitchen, then?”

For a moment, Marian seemed to consider it, but then she shook her head. “We can’t go spoiling our child before it’s even born! We’ll go home and have dinner, and then treat ourselves to that strawberry phosphate. Is that a deal, little one?” she cooed, patting her stomach.

Harold gave his wife a fond smile. Sensible and indulgent in equal measure, Marian was going to make a wonderful mother. He put his arm around her and said three words he never thought he’d ever say with such happy sincerity: “Let’s go home.”


End file.
